The Sangheili Chronicles
by WarlordFil
Summary: THE FOOLS OF REACH now up! A collection of humorous short stories, outtakes, and general silliness starring Elites. Individual disclaimers on each story to describe the content more fully.
1. Chapter 1: From Outer Space

**The Sangheili Chronicles**

**Author's Note on the Chronicles as a whole:**

Ever have funny outtakes, humourous and non-canon side stories, or other little fic-bits written just for "teh lolz"?

The Sangheili Chronicles are meant to provide a place where I can share these kinds of stories.

They're meant to be funny, and are not to be taken too seriously. I'll put in the author's notes what canon, if any, they are meant to fit into.

I hope they give you a laugh.

**Story #1**

**Queers From Outer Space!**

Author's Note on "Queers from Outer Space": This is a funny interlude set in the middle of my story "Twin Blades" (rated M and found in the M-rated section of this site). It got cut from the original story for three reasons: not being vital to the plot, not matching the rest of the story in tone or theme, and being written from Sgt. Johnson's point of view (the original story is told from the POVs of either the Arbiter or Rtas). But I still think it's funny, so I present it here as its own little piece.

This story contains romantic/sexual themes, but no actual sexual contact. It also includes gender confusion, references to certain characters being gay, and some offensive epithets from Mr. Johnson. If you find any of those ideas to be intolerable, you'll want to pass on this story. Otherwise, enjoy.

Time Setting: Before the "Crow's Nest" level of Halo 3, and in the middle of "Twin Blades, Chapter the Seventh: Clashes."

Sergeant Avery Johnson had just put the soap back into the tray when the shower room door opened and in walked a Sangheili.

Or, as Johnson called them, the Queers From Outer Space. The second that Watchtower shuttlecraft had landed, Johnson had seen how the white-armoured one and the Arbiter had looked at each other. It gave him the creeps.

This one was wearing only its bodysuit, unzipped down the front. Johnson couldn't see the Arbiter's brand, and the alien had all its mandibles so it wasn't Arby's boyfriend Half-jaw either. It was probably one of the new guys, Uzi and Nitro or whatever their names were. Sergeant Johnson squinted. This one had a lean build. Nitro was built even for an Elite, so this one was probably Uzi. That guy almost never took his funky helmet off—kind of like the Master Chief—which was probably why Johnson didn't recognize him now. Johnson wasn't entirely sure those two weren't fags as well—they professed to hate each other, but every time you looked, you saw them together. He expected Nitro to come strolling through that door at any minute…for some reason, the idea made him uncomfortable.

The Sangheili proceeded to strip off his bodysuit. Johnson averted his gaze as the alien got naked and entered the adjoining shower. When the hot water hit it, the alien closed its eyes and started to _purr_—a sound like a cat caught in a chainsaw. Johnson tried to concentrate on rinsing himself off, but it was damn hard with that fucking alien making sighing and moaning noises that sounded like it was having _way_ too damn much fun in there.

Then he caught it looking at him curiously.

"What are you looking at, faggot?" Sergeant Johnson demanded, all the while realizing that the alien had a good foot and a half of height on him and probably half again his body mass, and they were alone in the shower room, and the totally horny-sounding Elite was between him and the door.

The alien tilted its head. "What's a faggot?"

Then the door banged open and Half-Jaw stuck his head in.

Bad to worse, Johnson thought. The only thing worse than being trapped with one gay-ass alien was being trapped with _two_.

"What do you think you are doing here?" Rtas 'Vadum demanded.

The naked Sangheili jumped out of the shower, yelled "Some fraggin' _privacy_ please!" and kicked the door shut. Muttering to itself, it put its bodysuit back on, leaving its shower still running.

Johnson slowly turned off his shower, then wrapped himself in a towel, grateful to put at least some layers of cloth between himself and the Sangheili.

When the alien was dressed, it opened the door to the shower room. Half-Jaw was still standing in the hall, arms crossed, tapping his foot. "What the hell are you doing in there?" 'Vadum repeated indignantly.

The other Elite said, "I'm about to fly you back to _Shadow of Intent_—excuse me if I don't want to smell my own ass for the next twelve hours."

"There's a human in there," 'Vadum pointed out.

"So? Like you've never had a shower in front of a Grunt."

'Vadum shook his head. "It's not the species thing… Did you know this is a _male only_ shower room?"

Fil Storamee tilted her head. "Is it?"

"Or that Humans are as sensitive about that sort of thing as we are?" Rtas persisted.

Fil looked at Johnson and shrugged. "I couldn't tell. Sorry."

Sergeant Johnson's jaw dropped—any relief that the alien hadn't gotten around to figuring out what his dick was for was ruined by the fact that Sangheili biology must be _some freaky-ass shit_. He looked at 'Vadum in horror as he pointed in Fil's direction. "Are you trying to tell me that is a _girl???_"

Fil shot him a dirty look, growled, "You could have said something," and stalked out.

It was a chick. It was a girl alien, Sergeant Johnson thought to himself.

He was still not anywhere fucking near okay.

Avery Johnson found himself hoping to God that all the girl Elites were lesbians. _Please, dear Jesus, if that is a female, let them all find me butt-ugly._

Sergeant Avery Johnson swore to never, _ever_ be near a naked Sangheili ever again. No matter what gender it was. Not even if he had to wash out of a bucket for the rest of his natural life.


	2. Chapter 2: Dating Advice

Author's note: For this little story I borrowed Sani 'Hilvum, Runi, and Zeno 'Ribal from Sl'askia – all credit for those characters goes to her, and if you'd like to know more about them, I recommend you read her stories.

It also stars Usze and N'tho from "Cross Blades," and contains minor spoilers for that story.

This story is not meant to be considered as any kind of canon, considering that Sl'askia's stories and mine are set in very different universes, and Uzi and Nitro's behaviour is perhaps a little…extreme…in this story. It's just for the lolz!

This story spun out of a conversation between Sl'askia and I in which Usze and N'tho try to give Sani their idea of "helpful dating advice."

Contains swear words and gay and bisexual Sangheili. Don't read if you find the very idea offensive. (No actual romantic contact.)

***

**Dating Advice**

Sani sat on the Phantom's open bay door, swinging his hooves just inches above the tarmac. The rest of the visiting group of Sangheili were out meeting the locals, but Sani had asked to stay behind, hoping to get some time to himself to think. He couldn't get any enthusiasm to explore the planet known as Earth. He was too busy thinking about the Spec Ops Officer, Zeno 'Ribal.

Sani knew Zeno favoured males, and he'd started to wonder if Zeno might be interested in him. He was certainly interested in Zeno. But how could he find out for sure? He hadn't had any dating experience other than Runi, who he'd known from childhood on. He didn't want to make a fool of himself now.

"You're Sani, right?" said a voice nearby. "From the visiting delegation?"

Sani looked up to see two Sangheili standing there. He had been so lost in thought that he hadn't heard them approach.

Both of them were dressed in unusual cream-coloured armour. The smaller of the pair was very distinctive-looking: he had one green eye and one amber eye. He was also leaning on a cane. The taller of the pair was muscular even for a Sangheili, and though he was the very image of an alpha male, Sani noticed that he stood slightly behind the lame warrior, as though deferring to him. Both wore bonding bracelets on their forearms.

Sani slid off the bay door and saluted. "Yes sirs."

"I'm N'tho 'Sraom, Sangheili junior ambassador to Earth," said the larger soldier as he returned the salute. "This is Usze 'Taham, the senior ambassador," he said as he nodded to his companion.

"A pleasure," 'Taham said coolly. Sani noted that N'tho was very friendly and outgoing, while Usze seemed more reserved.

"You were really out of it," N'tho said. "I called your name at least three times."

Sani flushed.

"You should be grateful we weren't Brutes," Usze said disapprovingly. "Or you might have been in real trouble."

"Can I ask what's on your mind?" N'tho said kindly, cutting Usze off.

N'tho's questions were a little personal, but Sani preferred a conversation to a lecture from Usze. Who knew—maybe these two might be able to give him some advice.

"I'm thinking about a special someone back home," Sani confessed.

"Bondmate? Wife? Consort?" N'tho probed.

Sani flushed again. "Nothing like that. I don't even know if Zeno likes me. And I'm kind of trying to figure out how I can find out what he thinks about me."

Usze broke in, as though suddenly taking interest in the conversation. "But you like him?"

Sani nodded.

"A lot?"

Sani nodded again.

"So you'd like to be with him long-term?"

Usze was a very intense person. The insistance with which he asked the questions made Sani feel a little uneasy.

"I…I guess so…" Sani's mind raced.

Usze nodded wisely. "Well then, that's easy." He beamed. "All you need to do is to go up to him and say, "Hello, I'm Sani, would you like to be my bondmate?"

Sani choked.

N'tho cuffed Usze's shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to underscore his scorn for Usze's advice. "You goof, he can't say that!"

"Why not?" Usze asked indignantly.

"You heard the poor kid! He's trying to get the nerve to tell this guy he likes him, and you want him to ask the guyto _marry _him?"

Usze snorted. "If you _like _someone, why not?"

N'tho shook his head. "It doesn't work that way!" The junior ambassador left Usze's side and leaned in towards Sani, whispering conspiratorially. "Usze…he's a little old fashioned, you know? With him it's commitment or nothing. I understand, Sani, you want to get with this guy before you think about bonding, hm?"

Sani blushed and nodded.N'tho smiled smugly.

"So what you need to do, is go up to him, and smile at him, maybe touch your shoulder against his chestplate, and you say, "Hey there, handsome, want to fuck?"

Sani turned purple and started choking again.

N'tho tilted his head. "What?"

Usze smacked his snout into his palm. "Nitro, that's _not_ appropriate…."

N'tho blinked. "Why not? I bet he'd find out really fast if this Zeno guy was interested."

Sani's mandibles gaped as he listened to the two of them argue.

"He doesn't want a one-night stand!" Usze argued. "He wants a _relationship_."

N'tho folded his arms, pride wounded. "I thought good sex was an important part of a relationship."

"It is, but it's not the _first _part!"

"Oh, and pledging to spend your life with someone you don't even know yet is?"

Usze snorted. "Perhaps I am just too _honourable _to give advice to the likes of you two…"

"Maybe you're just too _crazy_, you mean."

"It worked for us!" Usze protested.

"Yeah, but we had at least a few days together before you, er, proposed. And besides, I liked you and you knew it before you ever got those bonding bracelets made. This poor kid just wants a date and some time to figure out if the feeling's mutual."

Usze snorted. "And by a _date _you mean dragging this Zeno fellow into a closet and getting under his armour as fast as possible."

"Sani wants to know what he's like under there, don't you, Sani?" Nitro wrapped his arm around Sani and pulled him close.

Sani was embarrassed, both by N'tho's frank discussion of private matters and the fact that the junior Ambassador seemed to have no concept of personal space. He writhed in Nitro's grip, but the bigger Sangheili's hold on him was too strong.

"Nitro, let him go," Usze groaned.

Nitro complied. Sani wriggled free and darted to the other side of Usze, keeping the senior Ambassador between himself and N'tho.

"If poor Sani follows your advice, do you know what Zeno is going to think?""If Zeno's still thinking at all, Sani's not doing it right." Nitro whispered in Sani's earbud, "If you put your mandibles up under his and shut your eyes, it drives these ranking officers wild."

"Nitro!" Uzi snapped. "If he does _that_, Zeno is going to think he is a complete slut who acts like that all the time."

"He'll have a fun night though." N'tho squinted and grinned.

"Yes, and he'll be single again in the morning," Usze said sternly. "You remember what that's like, don't you?"

N'tho's face fell. The junior Ambassador whimpered in the back of his throat.

Usze's expression dropped as well. "Oh, Nitro, I'm sorry." He held out his arms. "Come here."

N'tho moved in a blur of cream-coloured armour, leaning down to lay his head on Usze's shoulder. The senior Ambassador put his arms around his mate and nuzzled him. Sani felt a little embarrassed to watch this display, which was neither the sort of formal behaviour he'd come to expect of Usze, nor the sort of shameless display that N'tho was prone to performing.

Usze's tongue lapped N'tho's cheek. "Ssssss…I'm sorry."

"S'okay," came N'tho's muffled voice. He did not seem inclined to lift his muzzle from where it ws buried in Usze's neck.

Sani watched the two cuddling. It was sort of sweet, and almost helped him forget that Uzi was an unyielding fanatic and N'tho was a bit of a slut to say the least.

"Just leave those two, son," came a voice from behind him.

Sani turned on his heel to find an older Sangheili dressed in red armour with purple trim standing behind him.

"Hello, sir. Sani 'Hilvum at your service."

The older male flared his mandibles in greeting. "Piro 'Kipaz, Ambassador's honour guard."

Sani looked at the red-armoured warrior skeptically. If the wrinkles on his face were any indication, this soldier was at, or past, retirement age. "Honour guard?"  
Piro laughed. "They needed to call me something official." He squinted, smiling. "I'm content to simply introduce myself as N'tho's father."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Sani said, though he watched the old male warily in case Piro was anything like his son.

"I couldn't help overhearing your conversation," Piro began.

Sani flushed again.

"…and I have to tell you, whatever you do, do not listen to _either _of those two. Understood? I love my son and his mate dearly, but it's a mercy they ended up with one another, because I question whether anyone else would have had the patience for either of them."

Sani let out a deep breath. "Honestly, sir, I was beginning to wonder if all Sangheili on Earth were like that."

"Well, we're all a little eccentric, to live on a planet full of aliens, but those two are special cases. They're very good at their jobs, but they aren't typical Sangheili. Usze is very…emotionally intense. Perhaps you've noticed."

Sani nodded. Was _that _the way to describe Uzi's fanatic devotion?

"Anyone else would take off running from his obsessive affections, but N'tho just laps it up. If you follow Usze's advice, I highly doubt your Zeno would even want to be in the same room with you again. Unless Zeno is like N'tho, and needs that kind of constant affection to stay grounded."

"Er…N'tho is very…er….friendly, isn't he?"

Piro's eyes narrowed. "Did he behave himself?"

Sani's mandibles gaped. "What?"

"Did he get too friendly with you?"

By the Ancestors, another extremely personal question! "No!" Sani protested.

"Good," Piro said. "I'm pleased to see my boy is learning to control his attention-seeking ways."

"Usze, er, reined him in a little…but he wasn't trying to, you know, mate or anything…he was just getting a little too close."

Piro sighed. "It's not entirely his fault. He spent too much of his life where that was the only way he could get noticed."

Sani shifted his weight from one foot to another uncomfortably.

"But," Piro continued, "I'm presuming you don't have that sort of problem."

"I certainly hope not…"

"So, I doubt N'tho's advice would be at all appropriate either."

"It's, er…" How to say this nicely? Sani couldn't imagine just going up to Zeno and propositioning him out of the blue. "It's not."

Piro laid his hand on Sani's shoulder. "Then let me give you some advice from someone who isn't tied to old-fashioned standards of honour or, er, overly physically affectionate with casual acquaintances?"

"Sure," Sani said, hoping Piro was less of an eccentric than his son and his son's mate.

"You need to find an occasion to spend some time with this Zeno. Perhaps you have an interest in common? Or, if not, ask him to teach you about something he's good at. An activity that will give the two of you an excuse to interact and get to know about one another. If you think that Zeno is a good person, then you can drop some subtle hints, and see how he reacts to them. But you should establish for yourself that Zeno will be kind and gentle and treat you well, and that he likes you for yourself and not just for your body, _before _you mate with him, and _before _you ask him to marry you. Understood?"

Sani nodded. This was the kind of advice he could use. "Thank you, Piro. I appreciate it."

Just then, their attention was drawn by a scuffling sound. Usze and N'tho appeared to be grappling with one another.

"Fanatic!" N'tho snapped.

"Slut!" Usze retorted.

"Psycho!"

"Whore!"

Sani blinked. "Are those two fighting?"

Piro groaned. "Yes….Ancestors have mercy…"

"Should we…break them up?"

"No," the old Sangheili said. "They don't mean any of that. They just want an excuse to fight. I wish they'd show some consideration for the rest of us."

"Because they like to spar?"

"Because they like the make-up sex…and they're _loud_. You don't have a room in Barracks 3B, do you?"

Sani felt a sinking feeling. "Yes…"

Piro gave Sani a tired smile. "Then let me give you one more piece of advice. If you wish to dream of Zeno…or to sleep long enough for any dreams at all… I would sleep in the back of the Phantom tonight."

THE END


	3. Chapter 3: Sangheili Embassy Xmas Tree

**Author's Note**: This is a Christmas/Yule/Winter Holiday-themed story. It's got funny parts, but it's a little more serious than the previous chapters.

This story is K+ rated, unless you are easily offended by discussion of religion and/or the existence of gay people.

This story mentions multiple religions and also atheism. Usze and N'tho are a couple but this story does not include any overt romance and only minor displays of affection. If either of the above is intolerably offensive, you will not want to read this.

This story contains mild spoilers for "Cross Blades" (i.e., who survives that story, the nature of their relationships, and where they live by the end).

Mbeki and Cyr have gotten promotions in the year since "Cross Blades" and are corporals now.

My original attempt at a holiday story, "Christmas for Private Doyle," is on hold until next year. Partway through, I realized it contained a ton of spoilers for the as-yet-only-partially-posted "Mercenary Hearts," so I will have to wait and post that next year ;) There is, however, some foreshadowing here for "Christmas for Private Doyle" and also a bit for the "Duels Of Honour" duology (potential series).

**A Christmas Tree for the Sangheili Embassy**

_December 10, 2553 (approximately one year, one month after Halo 3)_

_Earth_

"It's a tree," N'tho 'Sraom pronounced, leaning in to prod the green, prickly branches with his muzzle.

Usze 'Taham scowled and crossed his arms. "I've been on Earth long enough to know that it is a tree," he said scathingly. "The inquiry was in regards to _why_ a tree has found its way into our lounge."

The lounge was a common area serving the apartments that had become the Sangheili living quarters on the base. While the Sangheili's apartments contained living rooms in addition to kitchenettes and bedrooms, the smaller apartments were not large enough for entertaining groups of guests. As well, their living rooms tended to double as studies or offices, resulting in an intimacy not particularly appropriate for casual visitors. Following typical military style, whether "home" was a single bunk and locker or an entire apartment, the building's architect had included a common lounge. And, Usze had to admit, the common lounge reminded him very much of the large meeting room in his mother's house in Taham State, though of course this Human version was smaller and far more cheaply appointed. His mother hung fine art on her walls, not unframed posters. Her furniture was carved by skilled artisans; this furniture, for the most part, had been assembled by N'tho 'Sraom and Sergeant Carlos Perez with screwdrivers and hammers, and came out of a box. His mother raised exotic flowers; this tree…

Usze frowned.

He limped forward, leaning on his cane, and took a sniff.

"This does not _smell_ like a tree." But he was hardly an expert in Earth botany. "Does it?" he asked N'tho.

N'tho shook his head. He looked at Usze, eyes wide. "You think it's a…a bomb or something?"

'Taham scowled again, and while he wanted to tell 'Sraom not to be stupid, a shiver of fear ran down his back. There were a lot of people who didn't like Usze and N'tho, including but not limited to Humans who could not forgive the Sangheili's role in the Covenant Wars, the rebel Sangheili led by Imperial Admiral Xytan Jar 'Wattin, Usze's former associates in the Ascetic Order, those who looked down on N'tho for having carried a Mark of Punishment… Could N'tho be right? Could this false tree somehow be hiding a weapon?

Usze did his best to be rational. "If this were a trap, it could have been disguised as something far less noticeable." He licked his mandibles. "Still, perhaps you should call Sergeant Perez and make an inquiry."

But before N'tho could turn on his communicator, the doorway was filled with a trio of Marines, including Perez himself, each with an armload of boxes.

"Merry Christmas!" Perez said.

"A Blessed Yule!" the pale-skinned, ash-blonde, stocky Cyr trilled.

"Um…Happy Hanukkah?" Mbeki added.

Usze and N'tho exchanged glances.

"_What_?" the Sangheili said together.

"It's Christmas," the sergeant explained, as though that were patently obvious. He strolled into the room and deposited his boxes on the top of the coffee table.

Usze picked up the top box. At first glance, the blue balls within reminded him of plasma grenades—but no, the box was far too light, and upon closer inspection he could see little rings and hooks on each of the orbs.

"Technically," Corporal Mbeki corrected him, "Christmas _itself _is on December twenty-fifth. This is only December tenth."

"It's a…holiday?" Usze guessed. He'd _learned _a thing or two about Human holidays during his past eleven months of living on Earth. November sixteenth, for example, was Remembrance Day—technically the date of the end of Humanity's Rainforest War, but expanded to remember all the Humans who had given their lives for their countries. Usze approved of holidays such as that. He privately admitted that he did not mind Thanksgiving so much, either—the excuse to fill his belly on such delicious food was more than acceptable.

"Do we get to wear costumes?" N'tho blurted excitedly, and Usze winced. Halloween was a holiday he could do without.

"Sure," Jane Cyr said, and put a red cap with a fuzzy white band and pompom atop N'tho's head.

Usze turned to Kumani Mbeki pleadingly. The dark-skinned, short-haired, tall Kenyan-born woman grinned and said, "Don't worry, Ambassador, dressing up in costume is not a common part of Christmas."

"Speak for yourself," Perez said ruefully. He unbuttoned his casual battle dress shirt to reveal a T-shirt depicting a fat man with a machine gun and the words YOU SLEIGH ME. The fat man wore a hat just like N'tho's. "My brother got me this and is insisting I wear it at the base party."

N'tho blinked. Cyr laughed. Mbeki looked confused.

"My brother is Colonel Perez," the sergeant said with much eye-rolling. Mbeki's lips slowly split into a grin.

Usze didn't get the joke that was apparently on the shirt, but he did understand what it was like to tolerate something for the sake of one's superiors—or one's position. Whatever this Christmas involved, he was going to have to take part in it, for the sake of the alliance between Humanity and Sangheili.

But if it involved another zombie costume, so help all the _Gods_, he'd…

"Let's get started on the tree!" Cyr said, sounding excited.

Usze's eyes flashed. "So _you _put that thing here!"

"Well, Staff Sergeant Perez did," the Marine retorted, glancing at her leader. "Decorating the tree is a big part of the holiday. Where are Piro and Kya? They won't want to miss out on this."

N'tho shrugged. "They went out for a picnic in my Warthog. Sorry. I wouldn't have let them borrow it if I'd have known."

"That's okay," Mbeki said. "You two can fill them in when they come back. So, if everyone's here, we can…"

"Wait. Where's Doyle?" N'tho asked.

Mbeki rolled her eyes. Privately, Usze had the same reaction. Private Seamus Doyle, born in Newfoundland, Canada, Earth, was an alcoholic disaster waiting to happen. Sometimes he wished that N'tho would stop trying to be friends with idiots who behaved like fools and didn't seem to appreciate the efforts that N'tho went to on their behalf, and Private Doyle was the top idiot on Usze's list.

"Don't even ask," Cyr grumbled. "You know how Doyle gets at this time of year."

"Drunk off his rocker, running around the base in a Santa suit and a pirate hat, singing "Ho Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum?" Perez said slyly.

"That was _after_ consuming a case of beer," Cyr countered. "When he's sober, he _hates _Christmas."

"Since when is Doyle sober these days?" Mbeki mumbled.

The three Humans fell silent.

Usze had heard some of the rumours about Private Doyle. Known as a party animal even by his fellow Marines, the war had not brought an end to Doyle's wild ways. Instead, it seemed that the lack of immanent death hanging over Doyle's head in the past eleven months had proven more stressful than combat somehow, and now Doyle, already infamous for being drunk and/or hung over when off-duty, was starting to get caught hung over while_ on_ duty, and there were mutterings that a few times, Doyle had behaved on duty in ways that suggested he might have been more than just a little hung over. Clearly this problem was not going away.

"Come on," Perez said quietly. "Doyle…well…I have a wife and two daughters. Mbeki has a sister and a son. Cyr has her mom..."

"And a boyfriend," Cyr added.

Mbeki's eyebrows raised…apparently this was something new.

"And Doyle…" Perez shook his head. "I don't think Doyle's got _anybody_ left after the war. Or anyone since then, either." He swallowed. "This is Christmas. Can't we think the best of our fellow man, just once a year?"

Usze sighed, and supposed he did have something to thank Private Doyle for. It was Doyle's homemade screech—and the giving of a bottle of same to N'tho—that had led Usze to take responsibility for one extremely drunk N'tho 'Sraom and take him back to his room, not for any kind of intimate encounter, but solely to ensure the other Sangheili had a safe place to sleep off his intoxication. It had to have been somewhere around that point in time where N'tho had decided that Usze would be good to him.

It could not have been long thereafter before Usze began to realize he liked having someone to look after—someone who looked up to him.

So in a way, Usze admitted to himself, he did have something to thank the Newfoundlander for…

…if he ever saw him. From the sounds of things, Doyle intended to spend this Christmas festival in bed, either pouting or passed out.

"Fine," Cyr retorted. "But we're not putting off tree decorating until Doyle wakes up and gets some coke and aspirin or whatever he's using as a hangover remedy these days."

Mbeki glanced at Cyr. "I'm surprised that you're so interested in decorating the tree, since you don't celebrate Christmas."

Cyr opened the top box and plucked out a golden-coloured globe made of glass. "Pagans had trees before Christians did."

Usze glanced over at N'tho, but the other Sangheili appeared just as confused by this conversational turn as Usze felt.

Sergeant Perez saw their confusion and took it upon himself to explain. "Here, we'll tell you about it while we decorate."

"This Christmas tree is fake," Cyr said, wrinkling her nose in what Usze had come to know was a Human expression of distaste.

"It better be," Mbeki retorted. "I'm allergic to pine."

"And we don't know how these two," Perez gestured to the Sangheili, "would deal with the real thing, so we got Base Stores to drop this one off this morning. Apparently they have more than they can use in their collection of decorations."

Usze suddenly had a bizarre mental image of the Sangheili Chief Quartermaster, Fil Storamy, keeping a Human-style Christmas tree in the immense junk-filled room on _Shadow of Intent_ called the Quartermaster's Stores. Part of him would not even be surprised.

"The first part," Mbeki said, "is to find the lights."

Everyone grabbed the nearest box and pulled off the lid. Usze's box contained two small human figures and a geometrical shape. He peered inside N'tho's box. There was a slithering tangle of fuzzy, silvery rope in there.

"Got 'em," Perez announced. He pulled out a giant tangled mess of cord studded with little lights.

"It's the twenty-sixth century," Cyr muttered, "and technology has yet to advance far enough to invent the non-tangling Christmas lights."

Looking at the snarl, Usze was not certain that Covenant technology was up to that task either.

"Plug them in," Mbeki suggested. "The last thing we want is to get them on the tree only to find out some of them don't work."

"If you're such an expert, why don't you do it, _Corporal_ Mbeki?"

While Mbeki struggled with the lights, Perez explained the holiday to the Sangheili. "Christmas is a holiday held shortly after the Winter Solstice."

Usze and N'tho nodded. Sanghelios had a Winter Solstice as well.

"My dad says Sangheili used to celebrate the Solstice, before the Prophets came," N'tho said. "After that, most of our holidays had to do with the date of such-and-such Declaration or the date of the discovery of various Forerunner artifacts."

"Christmas is a rather odd holiday from your point of view, I think," Perez said, "in that it's both a secular and a religious celebration."

"Religious?" N'tho asked warily. Usze admitted to feeling a little uneasy himself. There was nothing like being shown that the faith you'd been raised in had been based on lies and manipulation to give someone a healthy mistrust of religion.

N'tho's father Piro had always been a follower of the old Sangheili spirituality, a tradition based in ancestor veneration and the cycles of the seasons, though he had paid lip service to the Covenant faith in public. With the breaking of the Covenant, Piro had sloughed off the religion of the Prophets and continued to honour the Forerunners alongside the ancient Sangheili heroes and his own ancestors, just as he always had. The Sangheili nurse, Kya, had viewed the Great Betrayal as a confirmation of the private atheism she'd nursed for many years, though Kya seemed more interested in spiritual matters as of late.

N'tho, on the other hand, had taken the news a lot more poorly. He'd been outright _angry _that all his suffering and struggling, all the pain that had been inflicted upon him, had been in the name of something that hadn't even been real. Usze wasn't sure if N'tho was really an atheist now or just wished he were, or if he'd taken up Human beliefs along with his other Human-influenced ways, but Usze hadn't been able to summon up the courage to ask.

Usze was still too conflicted about his own beliefs. N'tho had been the victim of the Sangheili belief system; Usze had been one of the _perpetrators_. N'tho might have been branded with a Mark of Punishment, but it was Usze who'd willingly dedicated his life, and his _soul_, to an organization that had proven rotten at the core. Without the Covenant, N'tho was free, but Usze…

Usze was _hollow_.

He didn't like to think about it. This Christmas was apparently supposed to be a happy time. Usze did not want to ruin the mood by withdrawing and brooding. He had spent enough of his life in solitude already. If he allowed his private darkness to overwhelm him, he might as well join Private Doyle inside a bottle of screech.

Usze closed his hand around N'tho's and gripped tightly. The other Sangheili turned his head towards his partner, his eyes curious, the pompom on the hat swinging back and forth off the side of his muzzle. Understanding crossed N'tho's expression and he squeezed Usze's hand to reassure him.

With N'tho at his side, Usze 'Taham could get through anything.

"Don't worry," Mbeki said, noticing the look on the Sangheili's faces. "I don't believe in any kind of God and I still love Christmas."

Usze tilted his head, confused. On Sanghelios, if one didn't show proper behaviour on a High Holy Day, one could expect a "visit" from the local authorities to…encourage…one's zeal. Holidays had not been much fun for the likes of Kya, who had to act one way while privately thinking and feeling another.

"What this time of year means to you kind of depends on what you believe," Perez explained. "To someone like Mbeki, Christmas is a winter festival with an emphasis on love and family. To a Christian like me, Christmas is the time of year when we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, who we believe was the Son of God. His birth brings Christians the hope of salvation. To a Wiccan like Cyr, the Winter Solstice marks the symbolic rebirth of the sun and the return of the light. That's also a celebration of hope—hope that spring will return, hope that life will renew itself once more. Jewish people like Major Osstrander celebrate Hanukkah. Muslim people like Rashid Youssef celebrate Ramadan earlier on. All sorts of religions have different holidays at this time of year, but all of them have one thing in common: this is a time of year to celebrate with family and friends." He coughed. "And, er, the presents are pretty good too."

It was still blowing Usze's mind how many religions Humanity seemed to have. When he was growing up on Sanghelios, if you weren't a closet atheist or a more-or-less faithful follower of the Covenant faith, about the only other thing you could be was a practitioner of ancient Sangheili spirituality like Piro, or some mixture of the above. Humanity had so many _options_, including the choice _not_ to believe…and the choice not to _care_ about the issue either way. Usze could not imagine not caring whether or not there were Gods.

N'tho, predictably, had other concerns.

"Presents?" N'tho asked, pushing his muzzle against Perez' cheek in an overly familiar nuzzle that had the Marine wincing.

Usze could not help himself. He laughed. N'tho always made him feel happier.

Mbeki was laughing too. "Big, tough Sangheili looks just like my four year old where presents are concerned." She was covered all over in colourful lights—but the strands were much straighter, and every light glowed red, yellow, green or blue.

"Do we get presents?" N'tho asked excitedly.

"I don't know," Cyr said. "There's fourteen shopping days until Christmas…eleven until the Solstice…so you've got some time, but the malls are _crazy _this time of year."

Mbeki's eyes sparkled. "Or you could do what my son does and write a letter to Santa."

"That's assuming they haven't been naughty," Cyr countered.

Usze felt bewildered again.

"Here," Perez said, handing something to Usze.

Usze accepted it. It was a little human figure dressed in red. Plump and bearded, it wore a hat like N'tho's.

"That's Santa," Perez said. "A mythological figure who supposedly travels the world on Christmas Even and leaves gifts for children who've been good."

'Taham peered into the box. There were several Santas, some painted on glass orbs, some of plastic, some of cloth, some of painted wood. Usze noted that some of the Santas had pale skin, like Cyr, and some had dark skin, like Mbeki. But somehow, both seemed to represent the same character. Usze could comprehend this "Santa" as a god figure, but…a god who existed for nothing other than to bring happiness to the young? The Prophets had said the Forerunners were distant, otherworldly, focused only on creating the path to godhood and judging who among mortals was worthy to walk upon it.

But the Prophets had been wrong about so many things.

"What happens to the bad children?" Usze asked, unable to shake the idea that there had to be a condemnation somewhere, for someone.

Cyr laughed. "Naughty boys and girls get coal in their stockings."

"Fuel," Usze translated. "That seems like a useful item, though in this day and age, perhaps gasoline or solar cells might be more practical."

The Marines were giving him _that look_ again. In fact, so was N'tho.

"Fuel sucks," N'tho said, "when you'd rather have toys. I want a holovid game. There's this one where you play as a wizard and turn bad guys into frogs. Santa can bring me that."

Usze folded his arms. "How do _you _know anything about Santa?"

"Christmas specials," N'tho shot back.

Usze blinked.

"You know, on television?"

Usze rarely watched television unless he was aware in advance of something interesting that he could download. Most of the TV downloads were stupid, in his opinion. Still, TV downloads were one of the reasons N'tho knew so much about Human culture.

"Oh boy," Mbeki said quietly. "I wonder if N'tho realizes that Santa is fictional?"

'Taham tilted his head.

"It's usually the parents who buy the presents and put them out in the middle of the night. Sometimes charities, if the parents are too poor to afford anything. Well, at least we know what N'tho wants…"

Usze folded his arms. "I think what N'tho _needs _is a bodysuit filled with coal," he said in a normal tone of voice, "since we do not wear stockings and since N'tho is _very _naughty."

"It's hard to be naughty alone," N'tho shot back, and Usze felt his face purpling. "If I'm getting coal, so are you."

"Too much information," Perez retorted, and rapidly changed the subject. He handed Usze an ornament depicting a Human with wings like a bird's, and N'tho, another Santa. "The next step is to hang all the ornaments on the tree."

Cyr demonstrated by hanging a gold globe from a bough with a little hook.

Usze hung the flying human, which Mbeki called an "angel." Perez showed him how to choose a bough with enough space beneath it for the ornament to hang free. Usze nodded his understanding and put his Santa on the opposite side of the tree.

The boxes were piled high with ornaments. There were blown-glass ornaments in various shapes: perfect spheres, ovals with pointed ends, imperfect spheres with stems and tails rising from the bottom and top. There was a little bell that rang when you touched it. There were wooden and plastic objects, some of which Usze could identify as musical instruments, flowers, and animals. Other items Usze did not recognize, and Kumani Mbeki taught him the names for them: rocking horse, sleigh, mistletoe, elf.

There were miniature cloth items which resembled nothing so much as human socks. What was next—miniature underwear?

There were shapes made with beads, including something Usze guessed was meant to represent a "snowman." Perez' two daughters and Mbeki's son had taken advantage of the first major snowfall to teach Nitro how to make one. Uzi had spent the first major snowfall wrapped up in front of the lounge's fireplace, watching through the window, drinking the hot chocolate beverage and wondering how _anything _could live on a planet so cold.

Corporal Cyr seemed attached to a miniature broom, a stylized sun, some plastic apples, and another snowman, this one wearing—if he remembered enough about Halloween—a witch's hat. Perez explained to Usze that these were symbolic of Cyr's religion. Then he showed Usze some of his symbols: a beaded cross, a sheep herder, a baby Human, and the angels.

"Next year," Mbeki said, "you guys should collect some stuff from Sangheilos, so that next Christmas we could hang some things of yours on the tree."

N'tho's face lit up. "Wait!" he said, and ran out of the room.

"Do I want to know?" Jane Cyr asked.

Usze groaned. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what N'tho might come up with either.

"Tinsel garland," Perez announced. The sergeant showed Usze how to help the Marines wrap the glittering tinsel rope around the tree in a spiral shape. By the time they were done, N'tho was back, holding a handful of little items which he dropped onto the coffee table. Usze recognized some of the smaller models which N'tho built from scrap metal, wood carvings, and other spare parts. There was a little Warthog, a Ghost, a Mongoose, a Wraith, a tiny Scarab which Usze was _certain _had begun its life as one of the fake spiders from Halloween, and a five-inch carving of a Sangheili ship much like _Shadow of Intent_.

"Can we put hooks on these?" N'tho asked.

So, each person picked up a model and an ornament hanger and added N'tho's creations to the tree. Usze had to admit, the combination of Human and Sangheili items on the tree was stirring.

A mixture of religions. A mixture of cultures. A mixture of species, even.

Usze was not sure he fully understood the meaning of Christmas, but he was beginning to grasp what the holiday meant—would mean—to him.

"Now we have to pick what goes at the top of the tree," Mbeki said, looking into the box that Usze had first opened.

"Angel," said Perez.

"Holly King," said Cyr.

"Not this again," Mbeki grumbled. She turned to Usze and N'tho. "Every year they fight about what goes on top of the tree. Carlos wants his angel and Jane wants her Holly King or Father Christmas or fancy Santa or whatever you want to call him." She smirked. "In the better years, we make them compete in some stupid contest to choose a winner."

"How about we use this one?" Usze said, removing the third item—the geometrical figure.

"The star?" Mbeki frowned. "I don't know…don't you think it's kind of beaten-up looking?"

"Is that what that's supposed to be?" N'tho asked, scratching his head.

"Well, obviously it doesn't really look like a star. A star looks like just a pinpoint of light. But it's also a symbol, I guess. A beacon of hope for Humanity. You don't need to be religious to understand that. I think for a long time, people were inspired by the idea of something bigger than we were…a promise of something waiting for us, somewhere out there."

Mbeki fell suddenly silent and Usze could guess what she was thinking as he cradled the star in his hands. What Humanity had found "out there" had not been the glorious future it had dreamed of for countless generations. Instead, it had found the Covenant, and Usze and those like him had helped to burn their worlds to ash.

In the process, the Humans had killed many Sangheili. And, Usze admitted, the Sangheili had found their own problems in the wider universe. The lying Prophets. The Brutes, who'd happily see every Sangheili dead. And… He shuddered. And the Flood.

But, Usze thought as he looked around the room, they had also found this alliance with the Humans. They had found the truth about the Great Journey, and used it as an opportunity to begin again, to purge the arrogance and pride and selfishness and cruelty that had begun to infect them as a species. They had defeated the Flood, and kept their galaxy safe. He looked down at the star figure and felt a stirring of hope.

"It is a little battered," Usze said slowly. "So is Sanghelios. So is Earth. But I have a hope that we both will rise again—together. Don't you?"

The three Marines exchanged glances, first with one another, then with N'tho, and finally, they nodded.

Usze's bad leg trembled as he reached for the top of the tree. N'tho darted in to support his partner, but before he could cross the room, Usze found himself being held up by the three Marines.

Just this once, Usze swallowed his considerable Sangheili pride and accepted their support as he stretched to his full height and put the star on top of the Sangheili Embassy's very first Christmas tree.


	4. Chapter 4: A Happy 'Heiliween

This story is suited for general audiences. Contains spoilers for Cross Blades, but does not require reading that story in order to follow along. A Happy Halloween and Blessed Samhain to all!

**A Happy 'Heiliween**

When Usze 'Taham had accepted a position as the Sangheili Ambassador to Earth, he'd never thought the Human military base where he and his partner, N'tho 'Sraom, had been given living quarters would ever feel like home. But now, Usze and N'tho had recently returned from a three-week ambassadorial tour of various Human cities. That had meant three weeks of exposure to even more strange Human cultures and customs, three weeks of angry Humans protesting the Sangheili-Human alliance, three weeks of sending reports, videos and sociological notes back to Sanghelios, and worst of all, three weeks of chairs and beds and rooms and vehicles sized to Human beings who were, on the average, two or three feet shorter than Sangheili. By the end of it, Usze was looking forward to returning to his familiar apartments and stretching out on a couch built to accommodate his frame rather than contorting himself to suit Human furniture. Could this alien base finally be starting to feel like home?

But the lounge in the Ambassadorial Quarters was not the way he remembered it.

Usze stared.

There was no way the lounge ought to have deteriorated this quickly in only three weeks. The drapes hanging on the windows were tattered, as if they were rotting. Thick white cobwebs decorated the corners of the room, stretched across the mirror, adorned various surfaces. The spiders sat right out in the middle of their webs, utterly fearless. Something had to have happened to the overhead lights, since candelabra holding red and black candles stood on either side of the doorway, waiting to be lit once dusk fell. There table held three round orange objects which, from the scent of them, were likely some sort of fruit.

The door on the opposite side of the room swung open. Usze's vision dimly registered a new addition to the door: a plastic poster bearing a picture of a green-skinned Human stirring a large pot. He did not bother to read the words on the poster. He was too busy gawking at the figure in the doorway.

"Hi Uzi!" came the cheerful voice of his partner.

Nitro was dressed in a suit of rag-tag armour painted the same flat green colour as most of the vehicles on the base. The armour, Usze realized upon closer inspection, was a badly mismatched set of old Sangheili gear adorned with Human knee guards, shoulder guards, chestplate, and altered Human gloves.

After abandoning the ideals of the Ascetic Order, Usze had been sent to Earth by the Arbiter to protect him and N'tho from the Ascetics' reprisals. Taking up residence on Earth had been the safest choice, but to Usze, he had often felt as though he were the one being punished, exiled even, while the Ascetics remained on Sanghelios. N'tho, on the other hand, had readily adapted to the more liberal Human culture, and Usze secretly wondered if N'tho would ever want to go back to Sanghelios.

A familiar headache began to throb in the back of Usze's skull.

"N'tho, do I even want to know what you are doing…"

"Getting ready for the Halloween party!" Nitro proclaimed.

"The what party?"

"It's a Human holiday," N'tho explained.

Holiday. Usze began to get a vague suspicion of what was going on. Humans liked to decorate for their holidays. He remembered Valentine's Day, shortly after his arrival on Earth, and the disgusted look he had gotten from Corporal Mbeki when he'd inquired why Humans did not decorate with real hearts instead of the flat cardboard patterns that didn't even resemble hearts at all. Surely the local butcher would have had some to spare!

Or St. Patrick's Day—Nitro imbibing an excess of green beer and becoming very silly. Usze wanting some green beer himself when he saw N'tho's picture on the cover of a tabloid magazine under the title _Drunken Alien Dances on Table_. Usze desperately attempting to build an argument to spare N'tho from his impending execution for shaming the honour of the Sangheili delegation only to find N'tho being congratulated by Rtas for his _initiation into the human celebrity culture_.

Or Easter, where Usze had sat down and found himself crushing eggs that had been hidden under the blanket that covered his armchair.

Or that political holiday where Usze had been certain the base was under attack, only to find N'tho and the Marines camped out on the lawn watching colourful explosions in the sky.

Human holidays, as far as Usze was concerned, were nothing but excuses for even more bizarre Human behaviour. Why couldn't Human holidays be more like Sangheili holidays, with a dignified parade, an orderly religious service and then perhaps a good meal? The only thing the Humans seemed to have properly figured out was the food.

"Does Halloween have food?" Usze asked.

Nitro nodded excitedly. "Candy!" he said.

Usze's headache intensified. Nitro and sugar were an explosive combination. "No turkey dinner? Ham? Steak?"

"Sergeant Perez's kids say we should get two pillowcases full of candy each!"

"Why would you put candy in a….never mind." Usze wondered how long it would take him to eat that much candy—probably an entire year. Well, that made sense, at least. If the holiday only happened once a year, one ought to gather enough candy to see one through until it was Halloween again.

Nitro was still on a roll. "Look what Fil sent me from the Fleet." He pulled out a Sangheili Ranger helmet, which had been modified with—was that cardboard?—painted the same flat green, and decorated with a gold-tinted visor with lines drawn on it. He popped the helmet over his head. "What do you think?"

Until this point Usze had been doing an admirable job of ignoring N'tho's ridiculous clothing. He was now no longer able to overlook it, even though he doubted he really wanted an answer. "What is that thing you are wearing supposed to represent?"

Even behind the ranger helmet, Usze could hear the grin in his voice. "On Halloween you're supposed to dress up as the scariest thing you can think of. I'm a Demon!"

_Dress up?_

Nitro continued, "Mbeki's gonna be a vampire, and Perez is gonna be…."

Usze blinked. "What's a vampire?"

"It's a monster that drinks blood." Nitro snorted, looking disgusted. "Don't you watch any movies?"

Usze blinked again. "_We_ drink blood."

Nitro shrugged. "Have you ever noticed that when they serve us food, we always get meat, but we never get blood in a cup? I think the idea still freaks them out."

That made a certain amount of sense. "What does a vampire look like?"

"Kind of like a human, except really pale, and with long pointy teeth. The males wear black suits, the females wear skimpy black dresses, and both genders wear lots of eyeliner."

"I refuse to wear eyeliner," Usze said dryly.

Nitro snorted. "You're no fun. Fine. We'll give you purple wings and say you're a Ghost."

Usze's mandibles twitched in confusion.

"The Human classification for our light scout transport, get it?"

Usze watched him blankly.

"Never mind."

'Taham took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was supposed to get along with the Humans, and more importantly, he wanted to get along with Nitro. N'tho always seemed to enjoy himself at social events, no matter how ludicrous, and Uzi admitted that he liked to watch Nitro having fun. "You're the expert on Human culture, N'tho. Why don't you tell me what we do on Halloween?"

"I am going to go trick or treating with Perez's kids. That's when you dress up in a costume and walk around the neighbourhood visiting houses. You show off your costume and the people inside give you candy." Nitro beamed. "Most people have given up on the tricks part, unless you're an obnoxious teenager, and then you go around throwing eggs and toilet paper and kicking pumpkins. I'm gonna behave myself and not do any of those things, 'cause I know you want me to set a good example."

Well, at least he was making an effort.

"You, on the other hand, I think you're gonna be happier spending the early evening with Cyr."

Usze eyed N'tho sceptically, unsure if _you're gonna be happier_ truly meant _you will prefer_, or whether it meant _N'tho is pulling a prank on you again_.

"Why is that?" Usze asked warily.

"Cyr's a Witch…not like the one on the door. A religious Witch. She says her religious holiday, Samhain, happens at the same time as Halloween. And Samhain is when the Witches honour the spirits of their dead loved ones. I think you'd be good at that kind of thing, so I told Cyr you'd go, and maybe you could put in a good word for my mom for me, okay?"

Usze had to admit that sounded more appealing than a whole evening with Human children, which he could barely tolerate, while Nitro seemed more than happy to let kids pull his mandibles and pet him on the muzzle for hours on end. Honouring the dead was always a worthwhile endeavour. "Thank you," Usze said slowly. "I'll do that."

"Then after the kids are asleep, the Marines are having a party here on the base," N'tho continued. "That's why the lounge is all done up like this."

"It looks like an abandoned ruin."

"Kind of what we were going for. It's supposed to be creepy and spooky."

"If they wanted an abandoned ruin, there are plenty on this planet to choose from."

"Yeah, and we put 'em there. Maybe better not to remind the Humans of that."

Usze had to admit that N'tho had a point. He sat down—blinked, got up, removed a large rubber spider from the couch cushion, and sat back down. He scowled at the fake arachnid. "They have spiders this large in Australia. Why not just import the real thing?"

Nitro plopped down on the couch next to him. "Because this holiday isn't supposed to be really scary. It's pretend scary. That's why it's fun."

"That's _stupid_."

Nitro shrugged. "Most of us—Human and Sangheili—have just come through a massive war where someone was trying to wipe us out of existence. We've all had more really scary stuff than we need for the rest of our lives." Nitro took the rubber spider and wiggled its legs. "I don't want to think about what might have happened if the Prophets, or the Brutes, had gotten their way. I guess Halloween lets us think about being scared in a way that makes it feel safe to think about it."

Usze looked closely at his partner. N'tho might seem a bit of a fool by times, but the younger Sangheili had a perception Usze lacked: an ability to feel, to empathize, to fit in and get along and learn through intuition. And N'tho had just identified something the highly formal, rigid Sangheili society lacked—an outlet through which to explore and express the emotion of fear. Instead, they pretended not to have any, mocked the Unggoy and the Kig-Yar for showing any, and then wondered why so many of their bright young soldiers crumbled under battle strain.

Usze still thought it was undignified to show fear in public, but for the sake of the Human-Sangheili alliance, he would try.

#

Usze had declined to wear the purple wings and attend the party as a Ghost. Instead, he had talked to Cyr about his idea for a scary costume. She'd promised to get some things together for him, and he'd vowed to do a proper job of this Halloween business.

Usze had been a little uncertain about attending Cyr's religious ritual, but it had turned out to be fairly simple. Cyr and some of her fellow Pagans had formed a circle, ritually purified it, and welcomed the spirits of their departed loved ones to join them. Everyone had been invited to speak the names of those who had died; Usze named his battle brother, Khuf 'Toruf, and N'tho's mother. He'd declined to participate in the spiral dance, so instead he sat beside the fire and tended it while the humans danced and dedicated the energy they raised to their departed friends. Then the circle had been dismissed, and the ritual was over.

That was the point where Cyr opened her costume box and helped get Usze into his current outfit.

The greenish makeup smelled strange and felt cold on his hide. The fake rubber features itched. Usze felt like a fool as he opened the door of the lounge to see the Halloween party in full swing.

"Nice zombie suit," Mbeki said with a grin as she handed him a drink.

Usze scowled. "I'm not a zombie." He wasn't even sure what a zombie _was_, but if it was anything like a werewolf, he was insulted. Usze did not see the logic behind being afraid of something that didn't even _exist_—though he had to admit that the idea of turning into an animal and losing your reason was incredibly disturbing.

"Whatever," Mbeki replied, unperturbed. "What do you think of the place?"

The Marines had added to the décor. The rubber spiders had been joined by rubber bats, rubber snakes, rubber rats, and something which Usze thought was intended to represent a housefly save that it was about fifty times too large. There were also corpses littered about in various states of dismemberment—an intact skeleton manacled to the wall, a rotting torso hanging from the chandelier, and a series of skulls holding lamps atop their bony craniums. A few discreet sniffs confirmed to Usze that all the corpses were, in fact, fakes.

The room was full of Humans, though Usze was not so sure if they were all in costume, or if N'tho had misunderstood the part about _the scariest thing you can think of_. Some of the females wore scanty, sparkling dresses, accessorized with little wings, or wands, or hats. Others wore animal suits, and unless Usze was greatly mistaken, cats and rabbits were generally considered more cute than horrifying. The male Humans favoured characters which Usze recognized from the television or N'tho's comic books. Still, a reasonable percentage of the guests were wearing outfits that represented the monsters Usze had heard about from his associates.

Halloween, Usze decided as he stuffed some candy corn into his jaws, was stupid, and its only redeeming feature was the food. Still, if he was at this dumb party, he might as well make an effort to take part in the ritual. Rtas and the Arbiter were constantly lecturing him about _respecting local customs _and _encouraging the Sangheili/Human alliance_ and _showing willingness to integrate_. He noticed, rather sourly, that neither Rtas nor the Arbiter were here at this party, and wondered if being stuffed into ill-fitting Brute costumes would change their tune.

Snickering to himself at the idea, Usze activated his cloaking device and then slunk across the room, coming up directly behind N'tho, who was in the middle of an animated conversation with Sergeant Perez and several other humans whom Usze did not recognize. Perez, Usze noticed, was dressed in the outrageous bodysuit of the lead character from the _SpaceCop _video game franchise. Prolonged exposure to N'tho was gifting Usze with all manner of useless knowledge. He took position right behind N'tho and dropped his cloak.

_They want me to integrate? Here I go._

Usze reached out as his invisibility faded and tapped N'tho on the shoulder.

"Braaaaaains," he said.

N'tho wheeled, his eyes growing huge.

"AAAAAAAAAAUGH, IT'S THE PARASITE!" he squealed in a very undignified manner.

The fact that Nitro was wearing his Demon costume only served to make the whole thing funnier. Usze was grateful that busting out laughing was the best course of action in this circumstance—he could see Nitro's hand flailing for a weapon that wasn't there. A real Flood host wouldn't ever suffer a giggle fit, and Usze just hoped Nitro realized that before he landed a punch on him.

"Uzi!" Nitro protested, as the humans around them also began laughing. "You scared me half to death!"

Usze was surprised—it felt absolutely _great_ to be the perpetrator of the prank, instead of N'tho's perpetual target. His mandibles flared in a smirk. "Happy Halloween."


	5. Chapter 5: The Fools of Reach

**Author's Note: **This story exists for humour purposes and is not to be taken seriously, nor is it to be considered " canon" for my Sangheili universe.

**The Fools of Reach**

Usze 'Taham was startled from a mid-afternoon nap by his partner's voice roaring a Sangheili curse word, followed by, "Jackals _everywhere_!"

Usze sat bolt upright in bed. He was in the Ambassadors' Suites on a Human base on Earth, where there ought not to be any Jackals at all, let alone Jackals everywhere. With the speed given to him by years of training, he rolled out of bed, grabbed his sword hilt from its rack on the wall and his cane from its place by the door, and sprinted off down the hallway in search of N'tho 'Sraom. The repeated utterances of words like "shit" and "oh fuck" gave Usze a clue that N'tho was in the lounge—but why could he not hear any of the sounds of combat?

Usze burst through the door and saw Nitro sitting on the couch, back to the door, with a pair of headphones clamped over his earbuds. He was leaning forward, intent on the television, and as Usze approached, he could see a controller in his partner's hands.

Usze reached over and lifted the headphones off Nitro's earbuds.

The younger Sangheili seemed confused as he hesitated, wondering what was happening to the audio. On screen, the scenery whirled, depicting a large group of Grunts grasping plasma grenades and running towards the camera; then the image changed into a massive explosion.

"Dammit!" Nitro swore, "what the…"

He glanced upward.

"Hi, Uzi," he said with a big grin.

Usze lowered his head until their muzzles almost touched and said dryly, "What in damnation are you doing?"

"Oh," N'tho said, "the Marines got a new video game. It's one of those historically-based shooters. See?" He offered Usze a case.

The front of the case simply said "_Reach_." Usze turned it over. "Welcome to Reach, heart of the UNSC's military power….Noble Team…must stand and face a full scale planetary invasion…" He scowled, "Nitro, this thing has you playing as a _Spartan_."

"Yeah, well…" The young Sangheili looked embarrassed. "It's a Human game. And, I mean, you can play as a Sangheili in games like _Finish the Fight _and _SpaceCops 3000_…"

Nitro's love of pop culture had given Usze a peripheral awareness of video games like _Finish the Fight_—another historical shooter about the battle to save Earth from the Covenant—or the utterly ludicrous _SpaceCops_ franchise, which had been given a controversial Sangheili character in the attempt to encourage Humanity to accept the idea of Sangheili as allies.

"But you're playing this," Usze pointed out.

"It's a good game," Nitro said defensively. "It's fun."

"Running around Reach in a Spartan suit slaughtering Sangheili. Nitro, that's ridiculous, disgusting, and downright offensive."

N'tho fidgeted. "Yeah, but, it's just make believe. And you get to do other things too. Like drive Warthogs…"

"You can drive Warthogs in real life."

"Last time I raced Warthogs, you got me in trouble."

Usze had to admit, he'd prefer it if N'tho kept his Warthog-racing to the virtual dimension.

"And I can fly Falcons and Sabres…"

Usze definitely didn't want N'tho getting his claws on those in real life.

"And…" Nitro's smile turned sly. "You remember having to work with Jackals, and how selfish and cowardly they could be? And how hard it was to get them to do what you wanted them to?"

Usze's lip curled reflexively. "Obnoxious, self-centered, _sleazy_ little vermin that they are…."

"Didn't you ever wish you could just pop 'em one with your plasma rifle?"

Usze found himelf nodding. "But of course I had to do so sparingly, or I'd end up with insufficient troops."

"Well, here you can shoot 'em all you want. Pow! Lazy Grunts? Whack! Creepy Hunters? Kablooie! And don't even get me started on the Brutes…"

"You can shoot Jiralhanae?"

"The more, the better!" Nitro grinned.

Usze had to admit there was a certain appeal in the idea of taking out his frustrations on imaginary characters where there would be no repercussions for his actions. And it had been a long time since he'd seen a Brute in real life—not to mention the fact that with one injured leg, he'd be severely disadvantaged if he did see one in person.

He sighed. He probably ought not to be lecturing N'tho unless he at least tried this game out for himself. "Give me that," he said, gesturing for the controller.

"We could play multiplayer," Nitro suggested. "You can be a Sangheili in that."

Usze had to admit that he found that idea more appealing.

"Let me set up a custom game," 'Sraom offered, and Usze settled himself on the couch while Nitro flipped through an array of screens with practiced speed. "Okay," he said, "all you have to do is customize your character and we're good to go."

N'tho showed Usze how to design his character's appearance. Since Usze hadn't played the game before, his options were limited. Still, he was able to create a decent-looking SpecOps Sangheili, dark purple with pale purple trim (due to the frustrating absence of "claret" as a colour choice).

"Ready?" Nitro asked.

Usze nodded.

Nitro triggered the countdown to start the game. Usze stared at his partner's character on the television screen—blue and gold, with an ornate single-horned headdress…

"_You're a Field Marshal_?"  
N'tho shrugged. "I've, er, been playing this a lot lately…"

"I can't believe you're a Field Marshal," Usze muttered. It was downright embarrassing, being outranked by his junior ambassador, even if it was only in a game.

"Fine, we'll play campaign then," N'tho said.

With a few more presses of the buttons, Usze found himself running next to a blue-and-gold Spartan. He was on the verge of making a snide comment when a hail of glowing purple needles descended on them both, and he found himself too busy to speak. After all, there were Jackals _everywhere_.


End file.
